


The Catcher and his Guy

by growup_thatbeautiful



Category: Ocean's Eleven Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Baseball Idiots, Baseball Players in Love, Catcher Rusty, Homophobia, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Pitcher Danny, mild homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29906610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growup_thatbeautiful/pseuds/growup_thatbeautiful
Summary: Rusty and Danny are a pitching and catching force to be reckoned with on the pitching mound and behind the plate.And they’re both pining after the other one.
Relationships: Danny Ocean/Rusty Ryan
Kudos: 6





	The Catcher and his Guy

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically just me trying to deal with my emotions about becoming a catcher for my softball team.

Rusty holds the edge of the doorway and turns, feeling the stretch of his shoulder even after the trainers spent 30 minutes working on it. He feels a bump against his side, and turns to see Danny, his pitcher. And possibly the man he’s in love with, not that anyone’s allowed to know that except them and their Shortstop Linus. He nods at Danny and continues to go through his warm up notions, stretching his legs, taping his fingers. 

He clips on his catching gear, enjoying the clip of the metal against metal. Left leg, right leg, chest protector. His fingers are laced through the front of his helmet as he carries himself over to the door of the bullpen. This is where he feels calm. This is his zone, the place where he can shine. 

Danny gives him a quick heads up and they get ready to practice, throwing back and forth to get their arms loose. Conversation flows between them, talking about last night's game, last night's post game celebrations with the rest of the team. After their shoulders are ready, they set up to start pitching.   
Rusty gets behind the plate straightening his arm out and framing the pitch. 

The satisfying slap of the ball hitting Rusty’s baseball glove fills the bullpen. Rusty throws the ball back, going through the motions. Get into the squat, back straight, balanced on the balls of his feet. He swipes the fingers on his right hand against the ground, the feel of rough dirt centering him. Danny winds up and throws again. 

They go through a few pitches, then Rusty starts giving signs so Danny can practice his spots. They have a game tonight, so they can’t overwork themselves, just get themselves ready. 

“You ready?”

“Yeah. I’ll meet you on the field later.” They have to get changed and ready to play, so Rusty heads towards the locker room. 

He flips the light on, grabbing his bag and shucking off his shirt. Rusty looks at himself in the mirror. The locker room is empty at the moment, no one else gets here as early as he does, which is one hundred percent on purpose. He clasps the thin gold chain around his neck, a delicate butterfly charm balanced in the middle. It hangs right above the tattoo of a flower on his collarbone that Basher dared him to get years ago. He’s almost ready to go out onto the field, meet a few fans, sign a few balls, but he has one more thing to add. 

He reaches into the front pocket of the bag by his foot and grabs a small fitted wristband. It is decorated with the colors of the pride flag, and he clasps it against his right wrist, adjusting it to fit. He doesn’t technically have approval for this, but they can’t stop it without looking bad so he’s not worried. 

Taking a deep breath, he walks out the door, only to run straight into Danny and the rest of the team. He murmurs quick apologies, ones that Danny shakes off easily. Danny looks him up and down in that way he does that makes Rusty feel something special. In the way that only Danny looks at him. 

Danny points down at the bracelet around Rusty’s wrist. “Do you have an extra one of those?” He was pretty sure beforehand that Danny would want one, he actually got one for all of the team just in case.   
“Yeah, I can get it if you want. It’s just in my bag.” Danny nods and follows Rusty back into the locker room, the rest of them trailing along. Rusty leans over the bench to get his bag, his necklace shining from where it snaked out from under his shirt. 

“Here you go. If anyone else wants one I have plenty.”

“Management‘a going to be pissed you didn’t tell them about this,” comments Linus while grabbing one from Rusty’s bag and putting it around his wrist. 

“Yeah, well that’s never fucking stopped us before.” Basher, their third baseman, clips one onto him. Along with the rest, Livingston, Frank, Virgil, and Yen all grab a bracelet. Their general manager, Reuben, and their main athletic assistant, Saul, both take one as well. 

“Maybe we just casually forgot to mention it to them. What are they going to do, make us take it off?” 

“They can’t. Simple as that.”

“Hey, Russ, quick question. I’m not complaining, but what made you want to stick it to the man like this.”

“Tired of the shit is all.”

“I respect that.” He accepts this as his dismissal, taking his time walking out of the room. He can feel Danny’s eyes on his back, and he makes the turn into one of the smaller hallways, knowing that Danny will follow. 

“Hey.” Danny leans against the wall next to him, only their fingers touching. It’s all they can allow themselves here. When they get sloppy people find things out. 

“Hey yourself.” Rusty leans his head back against the wall, holding on tightly to Danny’s fingers. 

“You know-“

“Yeah, I know. This could-“

“Yeah.” 

Danny looks around them, checking to see if there are any people around. When he sees that there isn’t, he pulls Rusty into a hug, brief and gone far too soon. They used to enjoy sneaking around, but it's lost its glow. 

They walk down the hallway, fingers brushing against each other’s, and out into the roaring of the crowd. He ends up making it through the ball signing and picture taking without having anybody comment on and their flag bracelets. Rusty doesn’t know whether to be mad or grateful. 

They’re fielding first, so Rusty gets his gear on and walks over to behind the plate. The first batter is up.   
“Ryan, you’re not seriously going to wear that shit?” Rusty doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply.  
“Hey, dumbass, I’m talking to you. You going to take that fucking bracelet off or what?” Rusty tries to ignore the batter, he really does. But staying cool when people are insulting his right to love has never been his strong suit. He calls time and looks back to the Ump, pulling his helmet off.   
“Blue, are you going to do anything about this?”

“About what? I’m not hearing a word, Ryan. And watch your tone, I’m not a fan of being talked to like that.”

“The fuck did you just say? You don’t like being talked to like that? Did you hear what he said to me? You can’t be serious.” Rusty is talking louder than he should, he knows that. He also knows that this could get him into trouble. It’s no secret that he’s gay, but the leave isn’t public in its support and Rusty knows that a good deal of the fans wouldn’t be supportive. 

“Can I talk to my catcher real quick? Thanks, blue.” Rusty can feel Danny pulling him away before he can make this worse for himself. 

“Fucking fucker,” curses Danny under his breath, his grip on Rusty’s arm tight and grounding.   
“I’m sorry, Danny, I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.” 

“No.” Danny’s voice is sharp, a tone Rusty doesn’t hear often. “This isn’t your fault. He’s an asshole. I can ask for a different catcher if you want.” 

“I’ll be fine. I can endure words.”

“I know, but you shouldn’t have to.” Danny’s words mean more than they should. “Next time he says something like that, give me a two then a four. And, if you want, you can call time and come talk to me, take a few deep breaths. Or we can show these fuckers how to play some ball.” 

“Right. Sure, let’s just play.” Rusty starts to walk away, but turns to speak back softly. “Danny,Thanks. For real.” 

“Of course. It’s what a teammate is for.” A teammate. Rusty knows that word, knows Danny uses it to mean he’s not just a teammate. He’s so much more. 

The rest of the game passes pretty uneventfully. He gets a few bad comments from the other team, but it’s worth it when he gets an understanding side glance or smile. 

At least it passes uneventfully until that first batter is up again for his last at bat. They have two outs, and they need him not to score, not to hit another home run. Rusty has been dealing with us shit all day and he’s a little more than fed up. He’s tried to take a deep centering breath, but there’s only so far that those can go. So, when the batter misses the first strike, Rusty may or may not be cheering under his breath. When the second strike hits his glove he has to physically refrain from jumping up and cheering. He decides to go with throwing the ball back at Danny. 

The batter fouls the third ball of the the side, launching it into the stands. The fourth one he hits off the side of Basher, who dives off to try and stop it. The count is still 0-2. Danny fixes his ball cap on his head, gripping his glove and throwing the next pitch. It hits Rusty’s glove with a satisfying thunk. It’s over. 

Rusty jumps up from his squat, running towards Danny and ripping his catcher’s helmet off. He grabs the front of Danny’s shirt and pulls him into a fierce kiss, leaving behind a world of bigots and assholes. 

He lets go gently, opposite of the rough motions from before. Danny doesn’t look upset, and Rusty would be able to tell if he was. 

“That was stupid. I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, Russ, it was pretty fucking stupid.” And Danny pulls him into another kiss.


End file.
